


Hush Now

by windchijmes



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windchijmes/pseuds/windchijmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure Durincest smut. Thorin has Fili bent over his desk in his private chambers and is about to fuck him when there's a knock on his door. Fili thinks he's going to be dismissed, but Thorin has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush Now

**Author's Note:**

> _Hobbit Kink Meme: Thorin has Fili bent over his desk in his private chambers and is about to fuck him when there's a knock on his door. Thorin tells them to go away, he's busy. But they insist they have to deliver this urgent message. Thorin relents. And Fili thinks that's his cue to leave but Thorin holds him in place and whispers they just have to be quieter. He then proceeds to have his way with Fili while ordering the messanger to relay the message through the door. The puzzled dwarf does as he's told while wondering why his king sounds so breathless._

“Quiet.” Smooth, rich tones like the darkest shade of velvet. The word is supposed to sooth, to gentle the struggles, like a deceptive lullaby. 

Fili’s teeth clamp down viciously on his bottom lip, just shy of tearing it. His fingernails dig crescents into the ebony beneath, and still he cannot stifle the noises straining from his chest. 

“Fili, lad.” That voice again, deeper now, rough around its edges. “Hush now!” 

He chokes on his breathing, clenching his hands even harder on the edge of the desk. Then those cunning fingers twist – and a sharp whimper escapes Fili’s throat.

A hand tangles into Fili’s hair and yanks his head up. “ _Silence,_ lad!” Thorin’s voice hisses into his ear. “Or I’ll have you gagged and crying for mercy, and _still_ you will not find release.” The hand in his hair tightens painfully, and sharp teeth bite into the tender skin of his neck. “Would you like that, hmm?” 

Fili finds himself shaking his head desperately, even though it hurts his scalp even more, and his shoulders ache terribly where they strain to keep him upright. His hips are pinioned to the desk by Thorin’s powerful thighs. “No!” he cries, then draws in several shaking breaths and forces his voice down. “No. I’ll…” His whisper threatens to rise as the teeth at his neck are replaced by silky tongue. “I’ll be quiet, Uncle…” 

“Good lad,” Thorin releases his hair and mouths at his skin, then he sucks hard, teeth and tongue etching bruises into Fili’s neck that will bloom vivid colours for _days_. “So obedient, so sweet, so _open_.” His voice rises into a snarl on the last word, sliding three fingers into Fili’s well-oiled hole and spreading them in that tight, slick passage. 

There is a certain mirth to those words – Fili being none of those things except the last, as his entrance is well and truly stretched open by Thorin’s fingers twisting and working inside him so torturously slow and _thorough_. The younger Dwarf squeezes his eyes shut, pulling up one arm to bite into his hand instead to muffle the keening cries in his throat. Mahal, he is already so hard, his cock swinging heavy and throbbing between his legs, and he _cannot touch_ , for Thorin will punish him even more severely for that rebellion. 

Then those fingers pull out without warning, and Fili gasps audibly, bereft of Thorin’s touch and left wanting. There is a hurried rustling behind him, a few muttered curses as Thorin undoes his breeches, and Fili feels no small flare of triumph even in his state. For all of Thorin’s formidable bearing, his control has been steadily fraying since the night began. Fili though barely has time to relish his thrill, when large, ridged hands are back on his rump. They squeeze handfuls of those muscled, rounded swells, prying them apart and baring him to the world – _no_. 

To Thorin’s gaze. 

A burning flush creeps over Fili’s face. He can feel Thorin’s eyes, dark and drunk with lust, searing into him, as he twitches and shakes, equal measures of shame and hunger churning in his loins. But he _knows_ what Thorin likes, that it will please him, bring a smile to his lips when Fili lets him _watch_ , so Fili steadies his arms on the ebony wood, and spreads his thighs wider. 

Thorin is flushed against his back in the next heartbeat, his heavier weight crushing into Fili. Thorin is still clothed, but his breeches are undone and there is bare flesh against Fili’s buttocks. A hot, huge shaft slides up and down the cleft between, and a soft moan from Thorin joins the whimpers from the writhing body pinned under him. 

“Now…now, now, _please_ …” The entreaties tumble out of Fili. He is beyond shame now; Thorin’s absence, as he deals with border skirmishes and handles relations with other races, has denied Fili of this for so long, and now Fili wants – _needs_ – it so badly.   

“Fili…” Thorin’s groan reverberates against Fili’s back, lips mouthing wet patterns over the blushing skin. 

A thick, blunt head presses against Fili’s entrance, then ever so carefully, _into_ it. A whine squeezes out of Fili’s mouth; he is unable to keep it back. Fili’s muscles strain around the intrusion; the penetration sears him, for all of Thorin’s preparation, Fili is still too tight. 

The sound of footfalls outside, getting louder. 

And Thorin’s cock breaches the tight ring of muscle, the head nudging inside by an agonising inch. 

Fili sputters out a string of strangled cries. 

“My lord?” 

There is a terrible moment as Thorin freezes, and Fili thinks the heavens are as cruel as the stories say. His panicked gaze darts to the solid oak door of Thorin’s chamber, on which the other side is a messenger. Another Dwarf, an outsider, who can _hear_ – 

“Speak,” Thorin says, his voice smooth and free of any indication that he is still _inside_ Fili. 

“My lord,” the messenger says again, relief evident in his tone. “I bring news from the trade talks.” 

Trade talks. Fili’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach, and the wretched clench of unfulfilment tears at him. This is _important_. Enough to bring their coupling to a stop, and Fili to be dismissed as Thorin grants the messenger audience to his person. Wrestling his emotions under control, Fili rises shakily onto his elbows. He needs to get a hold of himself, he needs to pull on his bloody clothes and get to his own chambers where he can stroke himself to a completion because he is so far _gone_ now – 

Thorin’s hand rests on his back and shoves him back down. 

His cock sinks into Fili a further inch, and the young heir keens uncontrollably. The hand on his back snaps up and clamps over his mouth, muffling him. Fili’s eyes are wide, his breaths puffing warm and erratic over the hand silencing him. Thorin means – Thorin means to _continue_ – 

“My lord,” the messenger falters uncertainly. “Is there someone with you? Should I – ” 

“I am alone. Continue,” Thorin orders the messenger. “And speak up, for I cannot hear you through the door.” He finishes his command, and his body covers Fili again, leaning the younger Dwarf deep into the wood of the desk. He gives a command of another kind, in another tone, dripping with dark promise and sex. “ _Hold still and take it_.” 

Fili has a fleeting moment to inhale sharply and nod, before Thorin’s cock pushes steadily into him, in one slow, numbing plunge, burying himself in Fili until his balls rest against the swells of Fili’s buttocks. 

“Good boy,” Thorin growls into Fili’s shoulder, pulling out several inches. He wraps an arm under Fili’s waist, hitching his hips a little higher, and spears into him again, _hard_. 

And Fili can only squeeze his eyes shut, a full, burning ache thrumming inside him, his mind torn apart by a flood of sensations. His erection has not subsided at all, even with the interruption, and now it slaps against his belly in pulsing need. He cannot relieve himself now even if he wants to, his body shoved back and forth over the desk with each of Thorin’s pounding thrusts. 

“…the envoys send their regards to the youngest heir, Kili,” the messenger drones on, voice pitched unnaturally loud at Thorin’s order. “And the crown prince, Fili.” 

It is out of pure reflex that he startles at the mention of his name, for there is not a single strand of coherence left in his wrecked mind. Thorin stills completely inside him, his breathing so harsh Fili can imagine the sheer effort it is taking him to form any semblance of composure. 

“The – ” Thorin begins, gnashes his teeth and rolls his hips, clearly an unbidden move. “The heirs are – hearty and hale.” There is a _shiver_ in his rumbling voice. 

“There is discussion to trade crops twice a year. The Men seek our weaponry with great urgency. As it appears, they worry for the safety of their people in their towns. And – ” The messenger halts, then forges on. “Are you all right?” He blurts, quite forgetting to mind his speech when addressing the king. 

“Go on!” Thorin snarls back, his kingly bearing just as forgotten. He shifts, hissing curses as he tries to concentrate, and Fili just wants to scream. 

In the best of times, no one dares test Thorin’s temper. But Fili is impaled and sprawled on the desk in Thorin’s chamber, kept trembling and shattered for hours now, his cries stifled by the hand over his mouth, and he throws all caution to the wind. He angles back with his hips, and is rewarded by the way Thorin freezes and presses his free hand into Fili’s back in silent warning. 

Fili turns his head as best as he can, catching a glimpse of Thorin’s imperious, handsome, _flushed_ face. And he clenches tightly around Thorin’s cock. 

“Do not stop until I say so!” Thorin fairly _bellows_ at the door. Then his gaze levels onto Fili, and there is a wild, furious gleam in it that strikes trepidation into Fili’s heart, and makes him even more aroused. 

Thorin pulls out completely, quickly, and Fili hisses at the sting, disorientated. Then hands grasp his waist and flips him over like a rag doll. Suddenly on his back, Fili just manages to scrabble at the edges of the desk, before the same hands pushes his thighs up and apart. 

“Teasing little _wench_ ,” Thorin’s smile is feral. He hooks one arm under each of Fili’s knees, keeping his legs helplessly splayed open. “I’ll _teach_ you to play with fire.” His cock – Fili can it see now – thickly-veined and leaking with copious fluid at the tip – braces at Fili’s hole again. “And when I’m done, you’ll not walk for _days_.” 

He bucks his hips and plunges into Fili, impossibly deeper, and finds the mark that sparks blinding pleasure in Fili’s every nerve. 

The scream on Fili’s tongue is swallowed by Thorin’s mouth. He kisses Fili deeply, tonguing over every fold, turning Fili’s too-loud whimpers into choked mewls, as he pounds again and again into the writhing body.

Outside, the messenger keeps speaking, never dropping his volume. And if he hears anything out of the ordinary, his steady tone betrays no suspicion. It is at striking odds with the desperate movements within the chamber, the candlelight throwing tangled shadows around the walls. 

_Let me…let me…please…_

Fili’s breathing hitches in dry sobs, his gaze tracking wildly around the chamber, and one of his hands give in, twitching towards his cock. Thorin catches him at once, wresting both his wrists over his head and pinning them down. His thrusts do not slow, keeping up a maddening pace that has Fili’s cock trapped and rubbed between their bellies. The young Dwarf tosses his head from side to side in senseless pleasure-pain, his hair fanning out across the desk, gold silk on the black gleam of ebony, strands catching in his panting mouth. 

Thorin fares little better. His control is long gone, and left in its awake, a single, pure need to claim and mark and _ravage_ the body beneath his own. So like his own in supple strength and grace. Yet so beautifully different – with soft skin yet unmarked by scars, and golden hairs at the chest and groin. They are of the same blood, the sin of their union both forbidding and intoxicating, keeping them bound and rutting and entwined over and over again. 

Right now they are simply bodies driving towards release. It is near, Thorin feels it. He keeps his unforgiving hold on Fili’s wrists, denying him touch, and kisses the younger Dwarf quiet. His  jerks grow harder, more erratic, his last thrusts stuttering into Fili’s pliant body, and he falls over the edge, guttural groans pouring into Fili’s mouth as his body does the same, spilling deep into that sweet, slick heat around his cock. 

When he pulls his sated cock out, Fili is close to weeping, teetering so close to release and denied for so long. Thorin grasps his jaw, commands _look at me_. Like the obedient lad he is, Fili snaps his eyes open, the expression in them glazed and unfocused, but they lock onto Thorin’s face without wavering. 

“No one else will touch you like this,” Thorin speaks against his lips. “ _No one_.” 

Fili stares at him. The streak of defiance is still there. Fili is a sweet lad, but few know his temperament rivals both Thorin and Kili in fieriness when it rears its head. But now there is only warmth and willingness and so much hunger in his gaze, and he nods for the second time that night. 

“Good,” Thorin smiles, curling his hand around Fili’s cock. It pulses in his hand, the wetness at the tip seeping over his fingers as he tugs and kneads it with rough skill. 

Fili is biting at his lip again, tendons standing out at his neck as he strains to keep quiet even as his hips buck up greedily into Thorin’s hand. Thorin does not drag this out. He pumps his hand hard and swiftly over the heated flesh. 

“Hurry up,” Thorin grunts. “Come _on_.” 

And Fili does, the coil in his loins finally snapping as he climaxes. A brawny forearm jams into Fili’s mouth and his teeth sink into it, mind blanking as white strings of stickiness spurt over his belly and Thorin’s fingers. Thorin’s hand continues to stroke and squeeze, milking the last remnants of his release from his cock until it softens. 

Fili is a debauched mess on the desk. His body is covered with bite marks and bruises, his braids knotted and tresses clinging rakishly to his sweat-damp skin. Thick white fluid is leaking out from between his still-splayed thighs, and his own seed coats his skin in spatters. 

It takes them a few moments to realise the messenger has gone terribly quiet outside. 

Thorin’s gaze is riveted on the ravished state of his nephew, snorting wryly to see the smirk slowly curling at Fili’s kiss-swollen lips. Sated and satisfied now, the boy’s devious self is clearly returning. 

“Why have you stopped?” Thorin asks out loud, half-heartedly so, for Fili has raised both arms and now waits to be lifted off the desk. 

“There is nothing left to report, my lord. And I’ve said everything _twice_.” the messenger replies politely. Too politely, and clipped. “May I be dismissed now?” 

Thorin raises an eyebrow at that, and Fili has to struggle again to be quiet before he breaks into guffaws. 

“Yes you may,” Thorin says agreeably, and somewhat sympathetically. He reaches down, lets Fili wind his arms around his neck, and hauls the young Dwarf up and into his chest.  

They eye the oak door until the last of those scurrying footfalls die away. 

“You may have lost another messenger,” Fili remarks, his azure eyes dancing with merriment. 

Thorin takes Fili’s chin and lifts his head so he can glare right into him. “And whose fault do you think it is?” 

“I rather think it’s yours,” Fili retorts, but he is grinning and he takes Thorin’s arm, where a deep bite mark is etched on his skin. “Pity you have to cover it.” He looks steadily at Thorin. “I should like others to see it.” 

Heat flares anew in Thorin’s gaze, and he indulges the younger Dwarf, letting Fili press a kiss onto the bite mark. 

“One day,” Thorin says simply. 

Fili’s smile is bright as his hair, the mischief back in his eyes. “But for good measure, perhaps next time we can try fur pelts on the floors. I can keep quiet better that way.” And Fili’s smile turns sly, knowing Thorin will be imagining them rutting like desperate animals with Fili spread out over the furs. 

Thorin’s breath catches in his throat. “One day,” he says again, his voice gone lower. “But hush _now_ ,” he finishes. 

They kiss again, quiet and gentle in the chamber.

 

* * *

 


End file.
